Black and White
by A Darker Angle
Summary: There's a reason for everything, and thus there's a reason I am the way I am." The story of Gellert Grindelwald, from early childhood to the summer of 1899 and beyond, told through his own words...
1. Part One: Chapter One

**A/N: Hey, and welcome to my new story, the first seven chapters of which have taken a lot of my time since you last saw me. :P **As you know from the summary, this is a fic about Grindelwald. It is written as his autobiography. Before we begin, I would like to inform you all that this story is rated M for a reason. The reason is as follows: **this story deals with a lot of potientially offensive subject matter as well as quite a few sensitive topics. **I feel it is in my obligation, as the author, to warn all of you that **this fic is really not meant for readers under the age of sixteen. **Although this warning mostly applies to later chapters, I feel the need to tell you this stuff now so you can back out _before_ you get into it.

I do not want to risk ruining the plot here, but if you really feel you would like to know about the potentially offensive topics and subject matter explored in the story in greater detail, please feel encouraged to contact me. **Whether you contact me or not, if you feel you have a good chance of being offended by the content in this story, please find another story to read. And if you choose to continue reading and find yourself offended later on, I don't want to hear it. You've been sufficiently warned.**

**For those of you who are still here: **Without further ado, here's the story! Enjoy, and don't forget reviews are vastly appreciated. No flames, though, please. Concrit is encouraged.

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**"Black and White"**

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**_Part I: April 1889 – September 1893_**

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**Chapter One**

The teenaged girl lay within the covers of her bed, sleeping soundly. For a moment, I wondered whether to wake her. She looked awfully peaceful, and in a way I wanted nothing more than to leave her a few more hours of that peace, which she hadn't known much of for what had now been a few months.

But I had no choice, I realized. We were out of bread.

And so I shook my sister, ever so gently, knowing she would be angry with me when she woke up, still groggy and fatigued from her abrupt waking. But she would see that I had no choice. I wasn't yet at an age where it was acceptable or safe for me to wander around in the streets, and unless she wanted to starve, she would come with me to get bread.

"Uuugh…" she moaned at last, stirring and shoving her head beneath her pillow. "What?"

"Wake up, Geri, we need bread," I said.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Eight."

"How the hell do you get up so early?" asked Geri reproachfully.

"Children usually do," I responded.

"Gellert, you'd think with a brain like yours you'd have the sense to sleep a little longer," she sighed, having finally dragged her head out from the pillow. She sat up slowly, rubbed her eyes and looked at me. I just smiled.

"Physiology doesn't lie," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm still six years old, whether my brain likes it or not. You know that."

She sighed again. "We have no bread at all?"

"None whatsoever. Papa probably 'forgot' to buy some again after he ate the last two slices last night."

"Don't talk like that," Geri warned, hearing the reproach in my voice all too well.

"You know it's true," I said. "When was the last time you actually _saw _our father?"

"Don't be that way, Gel. You know our parents have very demanding jobs. They can't be here all the time like they used to."

"_All the time_?" I exclaimed as Geri stood up and walked toward her adjoining bathroom. I quickly and indignantly followed suit. "Geri, open your eyes a little bit! They're _never here_, especially Papa. What's the point of having a well-paying job when you can't even enjoy the benefits? The only reason they come home most of the time is to sleep a few hours in the middle of the night, and then off they go again! You can't tell me they couldn't at least say hello to their children once in a while, or buy us food, or clothes, or all the other things we end up having to get _by ourselves_."

"No, I can't tell you that," Geri said as she flicked her wand to light the chandelier overhead, and leaned down beneath the vanity cabinet to fetch a cloth. She wet it in her water bowl and wiped her face as I sat on the thick edge of her bath. "But honestly, Gellert, at least we're well-to-do. At least they leave us a nice portion of money in the mornings. We can afford to buy food and nice clothes." At these words, she gestured to her elegant nightgown. "How many girls do you think have nightgowns like this? It takes money to buy nice things. You have to realize, our parents only want nice things for us."

"I'd rather live in a pithole and have them pay some attention to me once in a while," I said stubbornly. "Besides, we were well-to-do even _before _they became total workaholics. Have you seen the inheritance they got from grandpa Grindelwald? We got a lot more than Gertie's family did, and yet _her parents do not work like house-elves_."

Geri sighed as she came over and ruffled my hair affectionately. "Stop making so much ado, little brother. We're doing okay, you and I, aren't we? And if my leaving is what's worrying you, you can stop worrying. It's not going to happen."

I smiled slightly. I had never doubted for a moment that Geri would rather die than leave this place, as horrible as it was, for I trusted her blindly and unconditionally. But it was still nice to hear her say the words.

My anger toward my parents having been toned down a little, I slid off the edge of the bath and approached the vanity cabinet. There, I watched curiously as my sister performed countless groomings on her face, her hair, even her fingernails. I never did quite understand girls and their grooming. Once more, I asked Geri why she spent so much time correcting her appearance; after all, we were only going to get bread. She explained that as a woman of high status, it was expected that she looked her best when venturing out in public. As a boy, I didn't have to worry about appearance so much, and especially not at my young age. As long as I combed my hair and wore clean clothes, I would look acceptably decent. For girls Geri's age, it was more important, by the terms of our society, to be impeccably groomed. I sometimes wondered if our society was as strict as Geri perceived it to be, but I didn't question her. I hardly ever questioned my sister. She was only thirteen years old, but considering the enormous responsibility she was forced to maintain at home, I knew she was so much wiser than her age suggested. She seemed an adult to me.

I watched as my sister combed her long hair for the second time. I rolled my eyes.

"Geri, put down the comb and let's go," I said. "Your hair looks great. I'm hungry."

Geri smiled as she looked in the mirror, examining herself from every possible angle. Finally, she marched away from the counter reluctantly, joining me in the doorframe, and we both stepped out of her room. Once downstairs, Geri stepped outside and conceded that it was a bit chilly, and she indicated the coat rack. I nodded and took my light coat, tossing hers over in the process. Soon, we were well on our way.

From the moment I was born, in the late summer of 1882, I had already changed my family's lives.

With the use of magic, our family's private Healer had come to the conclusion that I would not make it to full term. Of course, as these methods were often very accurate, I didn't. I was born nearly a month early… but I was alive. No one had expected that.

If I had been stillborn as predicted, I think my parents would have been sad, but they would have moved on. The truth is, I was a complete accident. My parents only ever wanted one child, and when Geri was born, they were satisfied with her. However, for an unexplainable reason, my mother's contraceptive spell faulted one good day, and I came along, ruining everyone's plans. Little did anyone know that ruining everyone's plans would become routine for me someday.

The only person who was truly delighted by my unexpected birth was, of course, my sister Geri. She'd always wanted a sibling, and ever since my parents began their neverending working binge, I think she became even more thankful for that fateful accident. I felt bad at times that I was placing the burden of a younger sibling on her shoulders during those difficult times, but I was also glad to know that I provided her company.

By the time I was nearly five months old, everyone around me became convinced beyond the flicker of a doubt that I would never be a normal child.

When I began to crawl at the age of three months, barely able to support my still-too-large head, my parents were sufficiently creeped out. But when my first word, at four and a half months, turned out to be an entire sentence – _"Do I look bored?" _– it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

An extensive psychological evaluation uncovered the somewhat obvious fact that I was extremely intelligent for my age. Healers dubbed me as _intellectually advanced_. My family translated that into "genius".

During a lesser-scale follow-up with our family Healer, she confirmed another finding to my family: during my check-up, she had discovered that my emotional aptitudes, as well as my intellectual ones, were also grossly overdeveloped for my young age. To say the least, this surprised my family, since I had not yet begun to manifest much emotion. However, as if on cue, about a month later I began to experience toddler-like rage fits and tantrums, and I often cried for hours on end because I felt "insulted" by something my parents had said. My quick mind knew these things were not normal, but since there was apparently nothing I could do about it, I let it slide.

At the age of two years, to my family's delight, I began to show signs of magic. Geri was having trouble lowering the protective rail on my bed when it lowered "by itself" and I jumped out of bed and landed effortlessly onto the ground. Geri yelled to my parents that I was definitely a wizard, and I started laughing hysterically at the look of shock on her face.

From that moment, I entered a brand new world. My parents began to talk more and more about Durmstrang, which was at the time an all-boys school of wizardry. Unfortunately, this meant Geri could not attend, and since the only unisex school, Hogwarts, was judged as too far away from our home in Berlin, it was decided that she would be homeschooled, as many socially comfortable girls were in Germany at the time. Girls from less fortunate families were either somehow sent to Hogwarts, or, it most cases, left without much education, being simply taught whatever their parents had the energy and the knowledge to teach them.

A tutor was hired for Geri when she turned eleven. I was only four years old at the time, but I liked to listen in to her lessons at the door, or even, sometimes, to wander inside the room and watch curiously when my parents were too busy to notice. I wanted so badly to learn. My mind, almost at the same level of understanding as Geri's, was severely restricted by the limits placed on me due to my age. I hated being young. I wanted to be as old as Geri was, to learn the same things as she did, so that my learnings could at last be proportional to my level of intelligence. It was so unfair. I tried to not let myself depress about the injustice of it all, to tell myself that someday soon I'd have my turn. It hardly ever worked.

Geri had her summers off like any regular student would. She would learn from September to late June, and then have July and August off to spend with me and with her few young socialite friends. During those times, we'd celebrate her birthday and mine. Her friends would come over once in a while as well. She had two very close friends, Celina, who originated from France, and Gertrude, who shared my favorite cousin's name. I liked them both, and that was good because I saw them very often, and it would have been rather irritating to spend so much time with someone I entirely disliked. As for me, I didn't have any friends with which to quell my loneliness during Geri's study periods. There were no boys my age living in our grand neighborhood. The only boy at all was a two-year-old by the name of Christopher. He was Gertrude's cousin, but no one would have been stupid enough to expect me to spend my time with him.

Therefore, with the lack of friends to keep me company, and with Geri busy with her magical studies, I turned to the only friend I _did _have: the family library. Hours and hours I'd spend pouring over books, taking in the theoretical knowledge of all sorts of magic, and discovering places, people and things I'd never dreamed could exist. The world of books quickly enchanted me, and I became so engrossed with them that I gradually became rather antisocial. Of course, that was all right as there really was no way to be social in this place.

One day, at the age of five, I discovered a book by the name of _100 Simple Household Spells. _I itched to learn them, and was sure I could with my superior knowledge. I knew that if I learned some magic even before getting in school, I would have an even greater advantage than I did already. As a bonus, learning a few useful household spells at my age would undoubtedly do a good job in impressing my parents. With this in mind, I flipped to a random page and began to read.

" _#45: The Packing Spell_

_If your living quarters, your bedroom, or even your kitchen are disorganized or cluttered, or if you are going on vacation, you can use the Packing spell to collect any clutter and place it into a designated location, be it a cupboard, a suitcase, etcetera. You can also use this spell to pack select items or even a single item by using the incantation "Pack (name item(s))!"_

_How to use the packing spell:_

_Point your wand at an area of clutter and use the incantation: "Pack!" When the clutter reacts, point your wand at the location in which you -"_

I tossed the book aside, disappointed. It seemed I would not be able to learn this magic after all. The problem? I, of course, did not possess a wand.

The book had fallen a little ways to my right, still at the same page. For some reason, I crawled over and looked at it again, wondering if perhaps I had missed something. It turned out I had, and the words just below what I had previously read jumped out at me like blue on red.

_"The Packing spell can also be used by means of:_

_- Wandless magic  
- Nonverbal magic."_

The smile had returned to my lips before I could do anything to stop it. Maybe there was a way to learn after all…

Of course, nonverbal magic would be of no use to me without a wand. But wandless magic, now that was a different story. It was so clear in my mind: all I had to do was find a book explaining the procedures of wandless magic, read up on it, and start practicing.

So I tore the library apart to find a book on wandless magic, and when I found it, that's exactly what I did. And let me tell you, there is a first time for everything. As brilliant as I was even at five years old, my mind was still developing. It had not quite reached the level it needed to reach in order to let me succeed in such advanced magic. I needed a brainpower that I simply did not have.

It was hard for me to realize this, but eventually it did strike me. And it was my first heartbreaking, tearjerking, dream-shattering failure. I promised myself I would never fail again… but what a silly thing to promise oneself!

My sixth birthday came and went without much ado. Five months into my new year was when the mess of our lives really began.

In early January, my mother, who'd been at home with us most of the time my father was working, announced that she had been offered a job as a Healer. It wasn't like she needed the job or anything, but as Geri and I both knew, my mother longed for an opportunity to get out there, to do something meaningful with her life. She didn't want to be endlessly cooped up in the house, to die without anyone ever remembering her. My mother always was an ambitious woman, and I think I got that from her to some extent. So when she told us the news, I think it was clearest to me the reason why. It was kind of painful to see her leave for six hours every day, but Geri and I quickly adapted to it. This way, we often got the house to ourselves for some time, which we came to enjoy immensely.

However, things quickly went downhill from there. Not even a month later, my father was promoted to Head Auror. This meant he would be travelling a lot, and when he wasn't he would be on the job at basically all hours of the day. My father gradually began to be away for longer and longer periods. He loved his job so much, sometimes I wondered if he even missed us at all.

Two months later, my mother got promoted to Head of her department. Geri and I both began to cry desperately, begging her not to leave like our father had done, and she promised we'd still see her every day.

She was wrong.

It was now April, and we saw our mother three times a week if we were _lucky_. But at least she slept at home every night, unlike my father, who was by now so engrossed with his job he rarely came home at all. We often wondered where he was. Geri wanted us to send him an owl, but I dryly replied that I hardly thought him worthwhile of our attentions.

Our father was basically gone, although not officially. We saw our mother twice a week as it was normal, sometimes three times, and sometimes only once.

This was why we were walking the damp streets alone, Geri and I. This was why we needed to buy our own bread. We had parents, but only in the most legal sense. As it seemed, they had all but abandoned us, left us to fend for ourselves in this hard world.

As we approached the market, I grasped Geri's hand. I tried to remember what it was like to be a child, because I knew I was not really a child anymore. Not anymore.

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**In case you are wondering, yes, it does indeed get better from here. :P Thanks for reading, and hope you'll stay tuned for the next chaps!**


	2. Part One: Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Geri began her courses at ten o'clock every day. At that time, the tutor would come in and give her her lessons, which usually ended at approximately six thirty. If our mother got off work early, she would always show up at around seven o'clock and spend the evening with us. Geri got an hour's break from her courses at exactly two o'clock, during which she and the tutor would have a snack, or lunch if they were hungry enough, and she would come see me afterward.

If I calculated all that correctly, that gave me four hours (from ten to two), and another three and a half hours (from three to six-thirty) after Geri's break, during which I had absolutely no supervision. Usually, as aforementioned, I would simply read books to quell my loneliness and speed up the time I had before I could be with my sister again. However, there are only so many books in a library, and by mid-June, I had read everything that could possibly be of interest to me. I had a wide array of knowledge by now, of course, with all that reading, yet I quickly found myself lonely again. Deep inside I knew I had been born a social person, that I desperately longed for company and, I'll admit, for attention as well. But I was swift to accept that true human company wasn't currently a possibility for me, and so I left the library, ventured upstairs, and began to search for other means of solitary entertainment.

I spent a couple of days searching every corner of the manor for more books to read. However, as I'd suspected, the library had been their only holding place. The next day, I began to pace around, mind frantic in trying to come up with a solution to my dilemma, which was _boredom_. Incurable boredom. I pictured myself stuck in this place for days, weeks, _months _to come, doing exactly what I was doing now, absolutely nothing, and it made me sick to my stomach. All of a sudden, it felt like I was suffocating, both literally and figuratively, and at that moment, I knew that I needed to get out. I needed to get away from the life I was currently leading. I needed to go outside and find a place where I could breathe.

I ran outside without even stopping to grab my coat. It was three thirty, and Geri had just recently gone back to her work. I closed the door gently so they wouldn't hear.

I sat down on the front step and started to cry.

As a six-year-old boy, there were certain things I just couldn't acceptably do, regardless of my abnormal intelligence. Walking alone outside in midday was one of them. My parents taught me from a very young age that until I was twelve years old, if I had to go somewhere, one of them needed to come with me. It just wasn't acceptable, in this day and age, for a child with no magical education to wander around in the crime-ridden streets of our side of Berlin. Especially children of our status, added my parents.

But I didn't care anymore. By this point, I figured I'd rather go outside and be beaten to death by some mobster than spend one more second in that house.

There was a solution to the status problem, which I thought out while sitting on the front step. Silently, I walked back inside the house and ran upstairs. There, I undressed from my fancy everyday clothes, choosing instead to wear the most modest items of clothing I owned: a slightly worn, plain white sweater and a pair of brown pants I was usually asked to wear to help paint something. I looked at myself in the looking glass, strategically placed on the inside wall of my closet. The light seeping in from the window allowed me a perfectly clear view.

I looked exactly like a middle-class citizen. Except…

I ruffled my hair until it was messy and imperfect, until every strand seemed to be grossly out of place. I studied myself once again: _now _I really looked like a middle-classer. Smiling to myself, I walked out as silently as I'd walked in. Once outside, I felt a new confidence that I hadn't known while cooped up inside the house. I felt independant. Here, no one would tell me what I could or could not do.

Taking a deep breath, the cold air stinging my nostrils, I set off merrily down the long drive, humming a bizarre medley of several songs from my mother's favorite _Classical Compositions _album. Reaching the dirt road, I set off to the right. That was where the market was, along with several other small businesses. Another ten minutes or so of walking, and I'd reach them.

I made my way humming, taking in every sight I'd never had time to really see. I passed Celina's house – and noticed there were quite a few peacocks on her lawn. Celina's older brother was outside, trying to feed them, yet seeming a bit put off by their aggressiveness. I couldn't help but smile a little. Geri always complained about almost being attacked every time she visited Celina. I never asked any questions, but now I thought I might realize what she meant.

Gertrude's house was a little ways further, but no one was outside. It actually appeared to me that no one was home at all, but perhaps they'd just lit no candles. I kept walking. Two minutes or so later, I finally turned the corner of the long dirt road, heading right. I could see the outdoor market from where I stood.

This street spelled out "middle-class" to my well-trained eyes. There were no glamorous manors like on our street, only modest houses. For some reason though, they seemed rather comfortable.

Four boys about eight years old were out playing catch with a worn ball midway between where I was and where the market began. Vaguely, I wondered if they were Muggles. The boys watched me curiously as I passed them.

"Hey, you," one of them said. "Are you new?"

"No," I replied curtly, and kept walking.

"Where do you live?" asked another. "I've never seen you before."

"Liech Street," I replied.

The boys didn't reply. I heard one of them, who from the corner of my eye I recognized as the largest one, whisper to his friend: "Oh. He's one of those rich types."

"Are you lost?" asked the first boy.

"No," I said, and this time I stopped and looked straight back at him. "Just going to the market."

"Aren't you a little young to be going all the way to the market on your own?" the boy inquired. I noted he was speaking to me kindly, as if he really was worried I had run away from home and that my parents would freak when they found out. As if I still had parents. But he didn't know that, evidently. I'd never even seen him before.

"No," I replied curtly. "Thanks, but I know what I'm doing."

"How old are you, kid?" asked the larger boy. "Because you sound like a real smart-aleck to me."

"I'm six," I shrugged. "And if you'll excuse me, I have to be off."

Like a real jerk, I turned around and began to walk away from them without saying another word, and with every intention of completely ignoring any further comments on their part.

"Sure you wouldn't rather stay and play with us?" the first, nice boy asked genuinely. "We've got plenty of room."

I kept walking.

Throughout six short years, I'd only personally gone to the town market… maybe a dozen times or so. Usually my parents would go alone, leaving Geri and me the house for a precious hour or two. For a long time, this was my parents' only idea of "quality time", since Geri and I were both "such handfuls". I always laughed when Geri told me this, for I could understand my parents considering me a handful (sometimes), but I'd never really imagined Geri as that type of person. She always seemed so calm and admirable to me.

More than half of those dozen trips to the market all occured within the last three months, when Geri and I found ourselves so often alone that we felt the need to take care of groceries ourselves. Most of the time, I accompanied her. Sometimes, she wanted to go alone, and I left her her space.

Today, _I _was the one going alone. As I walked, I realized I had finally reached the point of crisis (or at least I thought I had at the time) with my parents being so consistently away from home. Children, like Geri and I, were not supposed to take on adult responsabilities. What about our childhood? What about fun? Oh, the fun we could have if our parents actually gave a damn about our well-being. Didn't they understand? Didn't they realize we still needed them and that we couldn't bear to live so often without them anymore? Didn't they understand how bored and unhappy I was when forced to spend countless hours with absolutely no company?

There had been a bitter anger boiling inside me for quite some time now, and I feared someday soon I would let it out. If only they knew how angry they made me. Sometimes, already, even at such a young age, I felt so angry I just wanted to break something. These feelings never lasted long, thankfully – I would soon become preoccupied with something else and temporarily forget about them.

Today I wasn't angry at all, too busy feeling entirely drained by the way my life was going at the moment. I thought about Geri, still at home, unsuspecting of my absence – hopefully she wouldn't somehow notice I was gone. I didn't want her to come looking for me. Subconsciously, I pictured my reaction were I to walk into an empty house later today. Without a doubt, I would think, in the moment, that my sister had left like my parents had… I knew it wasn't true, I knew she would never, but to erase all doubt from my mind was beyond my capacity. I was too afraid of being completely alone _not _to imagine the worst case scenario.

I must not have looked very happy as I walked past the local bar, located just beyond the outdoor market. Lost in thought, I'd walked farther than I'd planned. And I guess that's a good thing. Because if I'd snapped out of it earlier, I would never have met Mr Eberly.

The middle-aged, redheaded man was just outside the bar, sweeping the ancient wood of the front step. He looked up at me as he heard me pass, and I looked back at him. Our eyes met, and I noticed his eyes were the same color as mine. Hazel.

"And what is a nice young boy like you doing all the way out here?" he asked kindly, smiling at me. I didn't smile back.

"Had to clear my thoughts," I replied, and immediately wondered why I was confiding in a total stranger. I never did that.

The man looked vaguely surprised, but unlike many others, did not question me. He did not seem to wonder, or care, why I was speaking with maturity. Or why I had thoughts I needed to clear at my age.

He simply said, "Well, if you want to clear your thoughts, a nice walk outside is just about the best thing you can do. You're a smart young man, son. How old are you?"

"Six," I replied. "Thankfully, I'll be seven in a matter of months."

"You sound like you're about thirty," the man laughed, and then looked at me and smiled in recognition. "Wait, you must be the Grindelwalds' little boy, am I right? That's the only way I could see you'd be talking like that. Gellert, am I right? Or is it Gilbert?"

"It's Gellert," I said, and I smiled back this time.

"Vincent Eberly," he introduced himself, and leaned down to shake my hand, broom still in his grasp.

"It's weird to be recognized," I said as he continued to sweep distractedly. "People usually don't recognize me. Then again, I practically never go outside."

Mr Eberly frowned slightly at this. "Why not? Don't you children always play outside?"

"Geri and I aren't children," I said defiantly.

"How do you mean?"

I sighed. "It's kind of a long story."

"I see," said Mr Eberly. "Sure you don't want to talk about it?"

I laughed. "Why would I talk about it with you? I just met you."

I wondered vaguely if I'd offended the man, but he simply kept the same enigmatic smile on his face. If I _had _offended him, I would never know. His lack of response intrigued me. How people could learn not to show their feelings was a concept that had always intrigued me.

"To be honest," said Mr Eberly, "you look like a very lost young man. I understand it would be awkward to share a problem with a complete stranger, but I figured I'd offer just the same."

I snorted. "That's a first. An _adult _acknowledges the possibility of my having 'real' problems."

"Why, because children's lives are all rose petals and fairy tales?" asked Mr Eberly, chuckling. "Believe me, son, I know how it can be sometimes."

I didn't reply. I simply smiled, for even though he wasn't aware of my situation, I had the feeling deep down that he could understand. There were not many people in this world that I found a true connection with, but, as unlikely as it was, I decided at that moment that I liked Mr Eberly.

"Are you the bartender here?" I asked, shooting a glance into the small bar.

"Sure am. My best friend runs the place, and I bartend," said Mr Eberly. "It's not the greatest job, but it's comfortable."

"Do you ever get days off? Geri – my sister – says bartenders are almost always on the job," I said matter-of-factly.

"I'll get a day off once in a while, but I have to say I like working in the bar more than I like being off," he laughed. "Bizarre, isn't it? You'd think I'd appreciate a day off once in a while, but when I am off I find… it gets boring very quickly. And very soon, I miss the atmosphere that we get inside the bar. So I come back."

I shrugged. "If I worked here, I think I'd get tired of it awfully quickly. Especially if you get cranky customers."

"We get _drunk _customers," laughed Mr Eberly. "Even worse!"

I echoed his laughter. Unexpectedly, I could feel my spirits brighten. It was almost as if, with his simple chatter, Mr Eberly had swept away all of my anger and hurt, along with the dust on the step. I would soon learn, from visiting him again, that Mr Eberly just had that way about him. He just had this innate ability to make you feel better about yourself, no matter what the situation.

We continued our small talk for another good half-hour. Near the end, I told him how funny it was that such a simple thing could make me feel so much better. He smiled.

"Everyone has days like the one you've been having," he sighed. "It's just a little sad that you have to experience this stuff so early in life. Regardless of age, though, you just have to remember that it always works out in the end, no matter how bleak it seems."

I carried his words back home with me. On the way, I planned on telling Geri about him and his wise anecdotes, but as soon as I got home, I remembered I wasn't supposed to go out in the first place. Thus, my meeting with Mr Eberly would need to remain a secret, at least for now.

"Geri, Gellert!" she exclaimed as she stood in the doorway, arms open wide to greet us. "Oh, I've missed you so much. Come here!"

Geri stepped forward, all smiles, to give my mother a hug. Reluctantly, I made to do the same. I had no desire to hug her, no desire to even speak to her. As much as we were both glad to see her, I wondered if maybe it would be best not to get attached again. For she would only leave once more, and at the moment all her presence did was accentuate the emptiness I so often felt. I looked at her, at my mother, and I knew she didn't love me as much as a mother should. All the same, I pretended to love her enough for the both of us. I knew that doing otherwise would only hurt Geri, and I wasn't prepared to do that to a sister who was trying so hard to make everything work.

"Would you care for a drink, Mama?" asked Geri, leading my mother to the kitchen. She reached out to take my hand, and I grasped it indifferently, following her into the candlelit room. We both took a seat at the table as Geri poured refreshments. My mother stood up.

"Go sit down, Geri, I'll get it," she said, and headed to the counter. Geri attempted to refuse her assistance, arguing that she was perfectly capable of pouring drinks, but my mother wouldn't hear of it. Thus, Geri came to sit with me. I smiled at her, and her eyes told me she felt as awkward as I did. My mother was acting as if everything was perfectly normal, when it so clearly wasn't.

It was hard to sleep that night knowing my mother would leave again. I tossed and turned for hours, clinging to the memories I had of our latest evening spent together. I wondered if I was being overdramatic. Did Geri feel as deeply as I did about our parents deserting us?

At around three o'clock, I sat up in bed and lit a candle, having awoken from a terrible dream. In the dream, I was wearing worn clothes, standing by our house. It had been taken away from us, because our parents were never there, and we were "too young" to handle it by ourselves. Somehow, we ended up on the streets, and our house was sold to another family.

My parents now lived in the house next door. They had new children, now. They hadn't left because of their jobs after all – only because they no longer wanted us. I wondered if anyone would ever care for me again. If I wasn't worthy of lowlifes like my parents, who would I be worthy of? I looked around for Geri, but she wasn't there. She'd finally come to her senses and left me alone, just like they had.

I woke up with tears streaming down my face. I was so nervous I could barely light the candle, but after numerous vain attempts, I finally succeeded.

Opening my nightstand, I extracted a quill and a scrap of parchment. Shakily I wrote:

_Dear Mama,_

_We miss you. Please don't leave us._

_Love, Gellert._

I folded it with the intention of bringing it into her room and leaving it on her dresser. I had hopes that maybe she'd realize what she and our father were doing to us, but those hopes died on the way to her room. Judging by the way she'd acted tonight, she was too blind to ever realize. I shredded the paper with bitter fingers and made my way to the bathroom. I sat on the floor under the sink and stayed there until the sun rose, until my eyes were too tired to keep me awake any longer, and I had no other choice but to go back to bed.


End file.
